Auld Lang Syne
by Nightwitch87
Summary: My first StevieAlex oneparter. Happy New Year!


_For information on the song, including the full lyrics and the original text, see __ New Year, everyone!  _

**Auld Lang Syne**

„Oh, but you can't leave now, don't be silly, not before midnight! It's only five more minutes!" She had already taken him by the arm and was leading him back into the living room.

"Marsha, really, I'd like to avoid the traffic later, with everyone leaving…" He mentally slapped himself for that line a second after uttering it.

"Traffic?" she smirked. "On the way from our house to Killarney? And are you sure you can still drive?"

It was useless; he was already back among the other party guests. Now that he had received Marsha's attention, it would be hard to just sneak out.

He hadn't even wanted to come, a New Year's Eve party was the last thing he felt up to at the moment. On the other hand, it was hard to refuse Marsha Thompson's invitation. It seemed to mean a lot to her, and everyone knew the financial state the Thompsons' property was in. Perhaps this was their last year here. Neil had accepted all the help he could get, but what it came down to was that he was simply horrible at dealing with money and had made all the wrong investments.

Still, he regretted coming to the party. The last thing he wanted was to hear all of that marvelling nostalgia about this year, and the plans for the next. And who was he here for, anyway, with no Nick, no Dave, no Stevie to talk to? It was a waste of time, there was nothing to celebrate about the arrival of another year of troubles, or the passing of a year of failure. What reason was there to believe that the next one would be better? Things just kept getting worse and worse, year after year.

He took a look around for someone to talk to, but Riley was standing in a corner with Jodi, joking, from the looks of it. Great. Phil Rakich was getting dangerously close to him. He had already heard enough endless monologues about his plans for "Gungellan Fresh" in 2007. That man was unbearable in a sober state, but alcohol had the effect of making him even more talkative, and he just kept repeating himself.

The house bar seemed like the perfect refuge, being at the other end of the room, but he was prevented from pouring himself another drink by Marsha, who was handing out glasses of cheap champagne. "There you go."

"Thanks." He wasn't exactly a fan of champagne, but at this moment, the sparkling, faintly yellow beverage looked tempting. But if he'd had a choice, he still would have grabbed a beer instead.

Glancing around the stuffy room again, his gaze involuntarily met Stevie's, although she looked away quickly. She was gorgeous in that short, green dress, he had to admit that, although it didn't seem like her. A year ago, he would have walked over to her and teased her about it. Not anymore. She hadn't done anything fancy with her hair, but just let it down, and he wondered if she was aware that this was the most beautiful way it could be.

It annoyed him that she was over there with her glass of champagne, talking to Regan, laughing, apparently enjoying herself. He longed to be with her, but she was having fun. Without him. Well, at least there was no Drew around. If he had to see that bloke again, he'd be sure to give him a good punch.

He regretted what he had said to her on Killarney, so much, but there was no way to change that now. She was so bloody proud, and she probably didn't care, and…he just couldn't say anything. If anyone, she should approach him. Yes, it was her turn, definitely, and he would be very forgiving, someday, when she'd see the light. This was her fault. Sure, he had demanded a lot of patience, but Fiona- he couldn't have done this to her back then, and Stevie had never said anything. How was he supposed to know…? Things had gone wrong, everything, a series of coincidences. It couldn't be…_he_ couldn't have messed it up. Again. And yet…

"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one…happy New Year!" About thirty voices cheered, raising their glasses to welcome 2007.

But it was Phil's sluggish, out of pitch singing that prevailed. "Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind…" The others joined in quickly.

He couldn't stand that silly song. He and Nick used to make fun of it as kids, he remembered that, bawling it with exaggerated passion. It had been funny then, but now, it was just depressing, faking something that didn't exist.

"…and days of auld lang syne…"

He could see Jodi and Riley chanting along wholeheartedly, with a smirk on their lips. Stevie, Regan and himself were about the only people in the room who weren't singing. Regan excused herself, apparently heading for the bathroom, although Stevie seemed to try to hold her back. She remained behind, taking a sip of her champagne.

He caught her eye. Somehow, she didn't avert her gaze this time, but just looked at him with a serious expression. God, how he wished people would shut up with that bloody song about old friends, better days and cups of kindness. Cups! How could that be touching? He just wanted to talk…just talk…

She had looked away by now, but he was still observing her. It was so hard to read her thoughts. He walked over to her out of an impulse, until she couldn't avoid his gaze any longer. "Happy New Year."

She didn't answer, but still clinked glasses with him reluctantly.

"…and here's a hand, my trusty friend, and gie's a hand o' thine. We'll take a cup o' kindness yet, for auld lang syne." The song ended in many embraces.

"Stevie, I…we need to talk."

"Don't see what there is to talk about."

"Us."

She snorted. "I think we've pretty much said it all."

"I haven't."

"Good for you."

"Fine, suit yourself." He turned around without another word and walked away, boiling with anger. He just wanted to go home, and no one would hinder him this time.

That woman was stubborn as hell! This was it, he definitely wouldn't make another move towards her ever again. She obviously didn't want anything to do with him, and he couldn't say he did, either. He hated her with every fibre of his body, hated her so much it hurt…yes, he really, truly despised her.

"Alex" she suddenly called after him. Well, not exactly "called", it sounded more like a statement, a shaky one. He didn't turn around, but stopped. "Tomorrow. We- tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay" he mumbled quietly.

"And…happy new year."


End file.
